Twisted Cinderella

My Crazy Life

Anyway, these three devils entered my life when dearest Mother passed away two years ago. She had contracted a deadly disease and was only given a few weeks to live, although she survived for five more months; long enough to see me celebrate my fourteenth birthday. She passed away the next day. I must have cried for ten days straight after that. Right after her funeral was when I started to receive the visions. First I was a butcher who was killed by his apprentice, then a housemaid killed by her master, and well you get the idea. A year after she was gone, Father married the Widow Pickering, whose husband had died from being poisoned by the cook. I don’t believe that however, I believe that the Widow killed him for his estate, then moved on to more promising outlooks, like my poor father. Four weeks after they were married, he died. Guess what killed him? Yep, poison. Nobody will believe me but I still say the Widow did it.

Not even an hour after his funeral, she and her two daughters had my stuff moved to the servant’s wing of the mansion, our new home. It was a beautiful place, with a sprawling yard filled with the greenest grass and the most beautiful flowers. And it was only a few miles from the castle, so my stepsisters spent their days in the high tower room with the telescope trying to see if they could spot Prince Maxton. Frankly, I don’t see why they should waste their time with him. He is a stuck up royal snob who likes to do nothing other than torment the villagers and he can do anything he wants because he is “royal.” Ugh, the word disgusts me.

                So here I am now, one year after my father died, slaving for those two spoiled brats. I don’t say one word though, for I know that I won’t get a scrap of food that night for supper. I have to prepare meals, wash dishes, wash clothes, mend clothes, keep up on the yard work and keep the mansion sparkling. Today, is Marie’s eighteenth birthday, since she is the oldest, she gets to go to town to choose a new dress to wear to her party this evening. Gene is only a few months younger than Marie, but she only gets to have a new dress if she really needs one.

The Widow decided that we would all go into town and pick out new clothes. Except I don’t get to buy any new fancy clothes. I can have a new servant’s dress and shoes if they are not too comfortable. Seriously, Marie and Gene both try on the pair that I have selected and decide whether or not I can buy them. It is such a pain! Although, since my feet are a size four in ladies, my two stepsisters can only wedge their toes in a few inches and wiggle them around a bit inside. After the dresses and shoes are bought and paid for, the Widow sends me on my way with all the packages to by some groceries for Marie’s birthday supper and cake. Finally, I have bought everything that I need to prepare the meal. On my way out though, a little boy ran by and knocked me over, spilling my packages into the street. I scowled and bent down to pick them up. How can children be so ignorant these days? All of a sudden, another set of hands joined mine. I looked up into the most astounding eyes I’d ever seen. They were a deep blue with bursts of gold around the pupil. They belonged to a handsome young man, who looked to be about Marie’s age. His hair was as black as a raven’s wing and his skin was tan as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. He was talking to me but I didn’t hear him. Then I realized he was asking me if I needed any help.

                “No, no, I’ve got it, but thanks for offering,” I hurriedly picked up everything and ran back to the carriage.

                The man followed me and helped me load the packages into the storage bin on the side. I turned around and put my hands on my hips.

                “Why did you follow me?” I asked in an accusatory tone.

                 “I just wanted to make sure that you got to where you needed to go with those packages, because you looked like you were having a hard time with them,” he looked a little ashamed, and I guess my face must have softened, because he brightened up and smiled at me.

                “Ella! Hurry up! We’re going to be late! Can you make sure that you deliver the invitations around town today to the villagers? Make sure this one gets to the castle, it’s for Prince Maxton!” Marie and Gene shrieked at me. I winced and so did the man.

                “When you are finished, you better hurry home so you can prepare the meal!” the Widow shouted as the carriage drove off in a cloud of dust.

                I turned to the man, with the burlap sack filled to the brim with invitations.

                “Shall we?” I asked, smiling. He grinned and took the bag. We delivered invitations to everyone until the last one left was the ‘special’ invitation for Prince Maxton. Marie and Gene had bought the best cream colored stationary, sealing ink, pens and a handful of blooming red roses to stuff inside the envelope. The envelope was bulging against the seal.

                “Here, I’ll take that one to the castle,” the man said. I raised an eyebrow at him. He blushed.

                “I’m actually the Prince’s page, my name is Maxton and I live in the castle,” he was blushing so badly that his cheeks looked like two ripe tomatoes.

                “Oh, you are such a fibber! You can’t possibly be the Prince’s page and have the same name as him! How would that work anyway?” I shouted at him, as I grabbed the invitation and marched up to the gates that surrounded the castle grounds. A guard leaned out of the window and shouted at me.

                “And just what are you doing here missy?”

                “I am here to deliver an invitation to the Prince, for a party that is taking place this afternoon at the mansion on Benson Hill, compliments of my stepsisters!” I shouted back.

                The guard disappeared from view and suddenly, with a jerk and a loud grind, the gates opened inward. The gap was big enough so that two people could walk through. I looked behind my shoulder and groaned. It was Maxton, running up to the gates. I quickly slipped inside and ran to the castle. As I pounded on the door, Maxton slipped the invitation from my grip and ran for the hills outside the gates. I screeched and scampered off after him. When I finally caught up to him, I was out of breath and he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. He kept the invitation high in the air and danced away from me every time I lunged for it.

                “Fine, if you really are the Prince’s page…take the invitation…to him right away…please,” I was gasping for air. I started to feel very faint all of a sudden. My head swam and dark spots clouded my vision. I felt myself falling and then there was a strong hand grasping my hand and another holding me firmly at the waist. I felt Maxton pick me up and run me back down the hill towards the castle. The last thing I heard was the grinding of the castle gates.